


Without You

by Jeldenil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-20 18:45:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9506957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeldenil/pseuds/Jeldenil
Summary: A first attempt to write a Deamus-fic. Seventh year. Seamus is in Hogwarts, enduring horrific torture as he keeps his best-guarded secrets to himself. Meanwhile, Dean is roaming around trying to escape the snatchers. Trigger warnings for torture.





	1. Grim beginnings

__

Were you to blame, or was it my fault, love?  
Was it just the time, did we just refuse to see?  
Where are you now, and is it really over for you now?  
That well-known feeling, me talking, you smiling  
Perhaps I said a little too little  
Perhaps I thought you'd read between the lines  
(loosely translated lyrics from a Dutch song called Hoofd Onder Water by Is Ook Schitterend) 

It was only the first month of his seventh year and Seamus Finnigan already wanted to die. The dungeon he was currently in was icy cold and stank of mildew, and that was only the best part of it. For some reason, the Carrows liked to pick him out for their torture practices more then anyone else. He had been hoisted up by his wrist in rusty, heavy chains by a gleaming Filch, and Amycus Carrow had been sure to hex them to a bone-breaking tight grip. His ankles were firmly tied down to the floor with thick, enchanted ropes. Effectively, his body was getting stretched beyond it's natural limits, which was already very, very painful. But if that wasn't enough, both Death Eaters were simultanously casting the Cruciatus curse on Seamus' outstretched body, leaving the boy howling in excruciating pain for several long seconds in a row. It felt like fiendfyre burning through his spine, like poisoned claws piercing his organs, and Seamus could not think anymore. He could not speak- only scream. 

“See, that's how it's done. Now you take a go, Parkinson.” 

Before Seamus had gathered enough of his senses back to grasp what was going on, another spike of pain surged through his body, making him convulse and twist in his restraints. It only made the stretching worse, and he didn't even noticed how he'd defiled himself. It didn't last as long as the first time, and Pansy was only one witch, but it didn't seem to make too much difference to the Irish boy, who was now incoherently sobbing and whimpering, his voice cracked from the screams.

“Let's leave it at that, before he looses his mind. He's of no use without his mind intact.” 

They stripped him from his filthy clothes, hosed him down with icy water from their wands, then sent Parkinson away. The Slytherin girl grinned at him, but Seamus didn't believe there was much enthusiasm in that grin. Maybe it'd been too much, even for her cruelty.

“Where is Harry Potter?”  
The same question they'd asked him over and over, for the past two, three hours or so. He didn't know exactly how long it'd been, just that it was far too long.  
“I don't know.”  
“I don't believe you. Where is Hermione Granger? Where is Ronald Weasley? Where are your traitor-friends?”  
“S-sod off.”  
Seamus hated his voice for faltering, for feeling like he was about to cry. He was supposed to be brave, a true Gryffindor hero, but right now it was bloody damn hard.  
“You insolent little freak!”

A crack sounded through the air and Seamus' head was knocked back by a force like a firy whip hitting him in the face. He opened his mouth to scream, but his voice was so cracked that all that came out was a pathetic little whimper. It burned. It burned badly. And he was used to burns in his face. But nothing he'd experienced so far burned like this, this evil fire that felt like it would burn his face off completely. It lasted only a few seconds, but when the spell ended, he could still feel his left cheek ache and swell fro the impact, like he'd received an actual burn. 

Fitting, he guessed, as he had 'accidentally' set fire to Alecto's robes earlier that day. It was the excuse they'd used this time to give him 'detention'. But Seamus still didn't regret it; it'd distracted her from giving a first-year detention for crying in the hall ways. Even though the seventh year was now paying an exaggerated prize, he knew it was worth it. 

“Where is Harry Potter?”

He didn't even have enough of his voice left to answer properly this time. He just shook his head and croaked a barely audible 'dunno'. And it was true, too. They'd forcefed him veritaserum before they started, the bloody idiots. Why didn't they believe him? Then again, he never believed those Death Eaters were particularly bright to begin with. How long would he have to endure this godawful senseless violence? 

“Well, well, well...”  
A familiar voice interrupted the scene. Seamus shuddered. As if the torture he'd just gone through wasn't enough without a contribution from the Headmaster.  
“As foolishly stubborn as the rest of his house, it seems. May I ask, have you inquired about his special friend, the Thomas boy?”  
Oh no. Not that. Don't ask me about him. Seamus pressed his eyes shut tightly. Perhaps, if he'd fake to have lost consciousness he could avoid speaking about Dean. Of course, he had no idea where Dean was, but he was terrified they would somehow find out how Dean was his weakness. But Snape saw right through him, and he moved, in that awful, gliding way of his, to where Seamus was hanging. And Seamus could feel how he lifted his chin, sending a spike of pain through the damaged side of his face. 

“Tell me, Finnigan... What happened to Thomas?”  
“Gone,” he whispered, and there was no way he could hide the heartfelt sorrow behind that word.  
“O-on the run.”  
“How tragic that he's not here to hold your hand, isn't it?”  
“Rot in hell.”  
He'd said it before realising the error in his ways. He heard an angry hiss as the Headmaster retreated his hand just to slap right across his fresh wound. After the initial burn, it just felt numb now, although a headache was swiftly spreading from the impact. Seamus briefly worried about internal damage.  
“Fifty points from Gryffindor for that mouth!”  
As if he cared at all about House points anymore.  
“This boy has nothing useful to tell us. Let him hang for another hour to think about his mistakes. He's to be banned from the medical wing for another day. Alecto, Amycus, I need you in my office now. We have more urgent matters to discuss.”  
Seamus was surprised that that was all. But perhaps Snape did have a better brain in him, and realised that he was speaking the truth anyway. After all, Snape was the potion master. Grumbling, the Death Eaters complied with his orders, leaving Parkinson behind to guard him and set him free when his detention was over.

Later that night, when Seamus was finally let go, he only had Neville to look after his injuries back in the Gryffindor dorms. Granted, Neville was pretty rad with his plants, and he managed to grind up some root that really helped to take the worst edges of Seamus' pain.  
“That bloody bastard will pay for not letting you get proper medical attention,” the roundfaced, usually softspoken boy threatened.  
“Thanks, Neville... We'll make do with Muggle first aid and your … What's it called, Nettleroot?”  
“Kettleroot, well, I hope I have enough...” The boy muttered worriedly, busying himself with wrapping bandages tightly around Seamus' swollen wrists.  
“They really got you this time. They get worse every day.”  
“I know, Neville. I just wish we could pay them back for it, like, truly.”  
“We will, I'm sure. Just... Just wait for Harry to come back, and the others.”  
“Yeah.”  
They had had this same conversation every night, and Seamus was getting a little tired of it to be honest. It was hard to cling to a vague hope that their friends would come rescue them, while nobody knew where they were, or whether they were even still alive. He swallowed thickly. Please, let Dean still be alive somewhere out there. Then again, they hadn't heard their names being mentioned on any illegal radio show they had managed to liste to, yet. And surely, the Death Eaters would throw a party as soon as Harry was captured and killed, right? It was too depressing to think about for too long.  
“Neville, I think we... We might need to find a way to fight ourselves.”  
“Yes. You're absolutely right. I have been thinking about it, too. There's still some members from the DA around, and if I can figure out a way to let them all know... Maybe if they all still have their coins?”  
Neville was thinking out loud and Seamus let him ramble on, lying back in his bed. He wasn't ashamed to let Neville see he was holding an old jumper of Dean, which had somehow ended up in his trunk. It still smelled like his best friend, and it gave him a little, much needed comfort.  
“It'll take time to set everything up. Don't speak about it to anyone yet, okay, Seamus?”  
“Of course, I hope you don't take me for a fool.”  
“No, of course not, sorry.”  
“It's alright, Neville, I am just tired. I want to try and catch some sleep, if I can.”

The other boy nodded, slowly standing up from the edge of Seamus' bed where he'd sat to nurse his friend's injuries. He turned to face Seamus, glancing briefly at the piece of crumpled fabric that Seamus was pressing to his face.  
“I still don't know why you never told him, Shae. You're not the type to be scared of anything.”  
“Well... That's the bloody only thing I've ever been really scared of. If you don't count Banshees, of course.”  
They both smiled sadly.  
“Seems a bit silly now huh, those boggarts back then.”  
“Yes. Yes, it does. I'm terrified now, really. Neville, what if something happens to him, and I'll just never know?”  
“It won't. He's gonna be okay, Seamus, I promise.”  
“I wish I'd told him. But maybe then he wouldn't have run... And he had to. I know he had to. Or maybe he... Maybe he would have stil run, but he would have never wanted to see me again.”  
“You're shit to yourself, you know that, Seamus Finnigan?”


	2. Cold and alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We catch up with Dean during his run from the snatchers

Trees. Endless rows of trees. Dean hardly knew where he was anymore. Some ancient forest, far removed from any inhabited conclave, muggle or magical. He'd been trekking for days, setting up camp when the evening fell and warding his campsite with protective spells. He had taken a risk in the first month of his flight by visiting King's Cross, disguised as a muggle trash collector. He'd watched from a distance as Seamus pushed his cart towards platform 9¾, desperately wishing he could follow him to one of the compartments like every year. He knew it was insanely risky, and he was sure he'd spotted at least two or three teams of snatchers, so he didn't take longer then a second to gaze at his friend before he turned around and pretended to be way more interested in a nearby bin. When the clock struck eleven, he knew the train was leaving, and so did Dean, shutting himself in a stinking waste room hidden in an alcove of the station, and disapparating. 

He'd been on the run ever since. Ocassionally, he had been able to narrowly escape a couple of snatchers, but only because most of those teams didn't seem to be particularly clever, or good at magic. He figured that most of them didn't really know what they were doing, that they were being misled to believe they were fighting for the perseverance of their kind, and that more then half of them were the results of centuries of inbreeding between so-called 'pureblood' wizards. Some of them were so pathetic that Dean almost felt sorry for them. Almost, if they hadn't been so mean. He'd been tempted to fight a couple of times, when he witnessed them bullying a less fortunate muggle mistaken for a witch or wizard on the run. But he had to stay away from it. If he was ever going to be of any use to Seamus again, he needed to stay out of their clutches, so he could help and fight when it really mattered. Still, he had done what he could to ensure the muggles got away without revealing himself. And thus escaped them narrowly. 

He had been on the run for weeks now. It was frightening, it was thrilling in some ways, and at times, it was terrifying. But most of all, it was lonely. So very lonely. The sheer isolation and lack of any normal human contact whatsoever, made it that Dean wanted to just give up and surrender to the snatchers at times. He missed his mom, stepdad and sisters so much that it pysically hurt. He'd sent them away to stay with friends in Germany, where he hoped the Wizarding War would not reach. It was a good thing that he was the only wizard in the family, and he believed they wouldn't be at too great of a risk. 

It had been a weird summer, as he'd spent most of the time he'd usually spend with Seamus all by himself. Weird and empty, apart from the fear of course. So empty. He missed his friends. He missed Hogwarts. But most of all, he missed Seamus. Seamus, who did not even know how much Dean relied on him. When they'd said their farewells after the trainride following Dumbledore's funeral, they had both been solemn and quiet, knowing they might not see each other for a long time. Dean had hated that. But now, living through this, actually lacking Seamus in his life, he knew he'd had no idea how bad it would be. Not the slightest idea. There was nobody to make him laugh. Nobody to share his thoughts and dreams with. Nobody to pull pranks with. Nobody to admire each and every single one of his drawings. Nobody to whisper to at night when he couldn't sleep. Nobody who'd casually hug him, or sling an arm around his shoulders. Nobody who'd go out of his way to make him feel good. Nobody who'd rub his back if he had a muscle ache. Nobody who'd make him marvel at every little joke, look or word, made him wonder whether there was perhaps a little more to those then was directly obvious. 

Damn, did he miss Seamus. 

At night, while listening to the sounds of the forest around him, Dean would look at the magical photograph of them together, taken that Christmas break in Seamus' house. He'd come over for New Year's eve, and they had watched the magical fireshow together. Seamus had become very good at creating them, and was developing some new kinds for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. At midnight, someone had snapped them cheering together, and then looking at each other with big smiles before they hugged to wish each other a Happy New Year. On the photo, they were cheering and hugging and grinning all over again, and Dean thought he could see himself glance at Seamus' lips briefly. He remembered wondering, not for the first time, what it'd be like to kiss his best friend. He still wondered, but now he worried he'd never find out. 

And that was a thought that was just too hard to bear. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy Ginny's kisses, back when they were still dating. He'd very much enjoyed those kisses, in fact. But that was something in the past, something he was over now. He didn't think he'd ever get over missing Seamus. Seamus was like fire in human form; warm, sparkly, always there to bring cheer, mesmerizingly beautiful. Kissing him would be like that fireshow, Dean thought. His heart would explode and he would be so happy. If only... If only he'd see him again, and they'd both be safe. He would try it then. He'd fall asleep thinking about it, swallowing away tears when his worry about Seamus' wellbeing would become too overwhelming. 

When the last of the late summerdays had come and gone, and the leaves had turned red, yellow and brown before they fell down to the forest floor, Dean was forced to get close to an inhabited part of England again. He was cold, his stocks were depleted and frankly, he couldn't go any longer without hearing a human voice. He hoped he could pick up some news about Hogwarts somehow. Maybe he could find a discarded copy of the Prophet, but preferrably the Quibbler, as it tended to be a far more reliable source. 

He carefully approached Tretonby, a tiny village near Plymouth and known for the work of a crafty wizard carpenter a century ago. It was market day, and Dean hoped he wouldn't stand out too much between other visitors who came by to purchase fresh produce and local craftwork. He'd disguised himself by drinking a hairgrowth potion that gave him an impressive afro and the start of a beard. He thought he looked like a younger Jimi Hendrix, a little out of fashion, but at least not very much like Dean Thomas the fugitive Muggleborn. 

He restocked as fast as he could without drawing unwanted attention to himself for rushing, purchased a thick winter coat and was about to look for a recycle station, when he heard shouting and the unmistakable sounds of spells being fired off. He quickly ducked away behind a waffle stand, and peeked to see who was causing the commotion. He could see two men getting chased across the square by what could only be another team of snatchers. Dean hesitated. His first instinct was to run and make sure he would not be seen, but the slightly younger man looked like he was injured, and the other wizard appeared to be gasping for breath. There were two of them, and three snatchers. Dean made his decision. He'd even the score. Jumping from his hiding place, he fired a stunning spell to the first snatcher who'd nearly caught up with the injured man who tripped and crashed into the very stand Dean had been hiding behind moments ago. 

“Hold it! That's Thomas! Get him!” 

His heart hammering in his throat, Dean stood his ground as the other two snatchers turned to him as one. The one that had recognized him looked slightly familiar, like he was related to someone he knew from school. The older brother of some Slytherin student, likely. Before he could put a name to the face, however, he was forced to act and hex the other snatcher, sending him temporarily to the ground in a fit of eery laughter. The familiar face growled, pointing his wand at Dean with a snarl, but then the older fugitive had regained his breath and the injured man had scrambled up from where he'd fallen and all three of them fired stunning spells at once. 

The next second, the older wizard had grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him to the one who was injured. Dean didn't need instructions; he grabbed the injured man's arm and they dissaparated on the spot.


	3. A quiet Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seamus and the other Gryffindor's spend Valentine's day in the common room. But it's nothing like usual.

Seamus had become quiet. And that was a big deal, really. He'd always been known for his loud, big mouth. He'd always gotten into trouble for it. Never knew when not to run it. But now he did. It wasn't that he was a coward, and it wasn't that he didn't still get in trouble. He still got in trouble very much. He didn't need to run his mouth for that. And maybe that was a reason why he got quiet. But another reason was that hate made him quiet. Hate, and fear, and desperation. 

Luna had not returned from Christmas break. And she was not the only one. Left and right, students had gone missing. He'd also developed a strong suspicion that Alecto's predecessor in Muggle Studies, Charity Burbage, had not resigned and gone into hiding at all. It was terrifying to think she got murdered, but all evidence pointed in that direction. At this rate, Seamus thought, it was not a question of who would be next to 'disappear', as much as it was a question of when they'd all be dead. He tended to push that thought away, as it did not help the quiet little acts of rebellion he and the rest of the DA were trying to maintain. It was hard enough as it was.

It was horrible to see all of his fellow students act resigned. Seamus knew he didn't do much better, himself, but at least in the relative privacy of Gryffindor's common room, he still tried to crack the ocassional joke to cheer up the rest of the remaining students. Especially on days when people were supposed to be happy, like today. Valentine's day. The school had been decorated like always, with big floating hearts and tacky cherubs. But the mood was not even close to happy or celebratory. Most had quickly opened their Valentines from home, trying to ignore the censorised words and other signs their cards had been read before receiving them. Nobody had indulged on the heartshaped candy, or sung along with one of the cherubs' sugary songs. This would not do, not on a day of love, Seamus decided when he found Gryffindor's common room full with sulking, sad faces.

“Who else thinks that Malfoy payed for all those Valentines he got?” He tried, only getting weak smiles from Parvati and Lavender. Yeah, it probably wasn't very funny. Even his jokes started to suck. He tried again.  
“Reckon he'd be as happy if he got a card from Hagrid?”  
“Who says one of them wasn't from Hagrid?” Ginny retorted, and now it was Seamus' turn to weakly smile.   
“No way, I spend way more time in detention with Hagrid then Malfoy does. If anyone should get Valentines from Hagrid, it should be me. And I didn't, so...” 

And just like that, the conversation died. Normally, everyone would have laughed, and gossiped, and speculated who sent a card to who. And bragged about their own Valentines. But not this year. Seamus had not felt like sending any Valentines either. Not even joke ones. And it seemed like nobody else had, except for the Slytherins. They thrived. Sort of. Seamus didn't believe they were quite so happy with the way things were going as they pretended to be. He had seen Parkinson cry in a corridor, while Goyle clumsily tried to comfort her. Even Malfoy was withdrawn. Pale and quiet and not nearly as snarky as he usually was. Ginny claimed that he'd been like this last year, too, when he was trying to kill Dumbledore. But then Seamus hadn't really noticed. Now he noticed, and worried. Who did Malfoy want to murder this time? He and Ginny had tried to follow him around a bit. But they got caught and received detention for 'walking in the hallways without a goal'. When they protested that Malfoy was walking in the hallways without a goal, too, they got more detention for talking back. As they could have expected, really. 

It was odd, Seamus mused, that he and Ginny were now getting along so well. He had never really given her much attention before, except for when she was dating Dean. And then, he had been too busy envying her to really notice what kind of person she was. But she was nice, and smart, and funny, and he could see why Dean had liked her so much. And now he could see her without the all-consuming jealousy and resentment he'd felt towards her just a year ago. Was it only a year? It felt more like a century. Back when he'd still cared about things like Quidditch, and who'd become chaser. When he had been mad at Dean for getting the spot. How stupid was that. He guessed he'd also been mad at Dean for dating Ginny, and both slights combined made for their worst fight in... well, forever. Not that he'd told Dean it had been as much about Ginny as it'd been about Quidditch, but that didn't matter, did it? They'd fallen out, badly, and Seamus was surprised that Dean had even considered talking to him again once it had all settled down. Whatever mysterious force had made that happen, Seamus didn't know. He only knew he was endlessly grateful for it. It was bad enough that Dean was now on the run and in unknown peril; it would've been so much worse if they had never made up before that. Ginny had ceased to matter to Seamus then, especially once she'd started dating Harry. 

But here they were, getting along. They had softly spoken about how much they missed the others. Ginny had told him that Harry had broken up with her because of the war, and Seamus felt sorry for her. She seemed to understand and respect how he felt about Dean, even if he had not exactly confessed his crush on Dean to her. But she knew he missed him. And at times, when he got overwhelmed, she would notice and give him a hug. It helped a little. Seamus smiled at Ginny again. And she nodded, with a small smile back.

“You know... maybe it's time we get out of here.”   
They looked up, surprised. About a week ago, Neville had finally managed to communicate to the scattered remains of the DA again. And this time around, Seamus made sure he'd always carry the coin on him. He wouldn't miss another fight with the Death Eaters, if he could help it. But Neville was right in the room with them, saying what they all had been thinking. It was dangerous; it was never clear how much the Death Eaters could overhear.   
“I'll let you know,” Neville added, and dissapeared to the portrait hole without another word.

Commotion followed. Everyone was standing up, talking excitedly for the first time in forever.   
“Shit, what's he going to do, where did he go?”  
“You think he's going to fight?”  
“We should go after him!”  
“Shhhh!”  
That was Ginny, and Seamus realized she was right. She gestured at Parvati and Lavender, and somehow they both shut up too.   
“Well, I guess I should go and work on my Transfigurations homework!” Seamus said loudly.  
“Yeah! I have a Potions test tomorrow!” Ginny said.  
The portrait hole opened, and none other then Amycus Carrow stepped in, peering at the gathered Gryffindors suspiciously. But everyone had now grabbed a book or a scroll of parchment and was doing their best to look like they were studying.   
“Are you looking for something, professor?” Lavender piped up innocently, and Seamus admired her courage.   
“What are you lot up to?” Amycus inquired, looking at each of them in turn. “Can't be anything good, can it?”  
“I'm working on the essay about Moronic Muggle Mistakes your sister wants done by tuesday, professor.” Parvati said, pointing at the parchment she was writing on. “I need to write another full scroll.”  
“Studying for Potions, professor!” Ginny smiled sweetly.  
“Translating ancient runes!” Lavender claimed, even though Seamus didn't think she ever even took that class, she'd just grabbed the nearest book available. But Amycus surely wouldn't know.   
“Shouldn't you lot be celebrating Valentine's, like Slytherin is doing?”  
“Seriously, professor, are you suggesting we should party instead of study?” Seamus spoke before he could help himself, and he knew right away that it was a mistake.  
“You, Finnigan, come with me. I'll teach you once and for all not to insult me. The rest of you may continue your studies.”

Damn. Now everybody was soon to find out what Neville had planned, and Seamus would be down for another round of torture in the dungeons. Just his luck. Maybe they could even make him prettier yet; Lavender had told him that his face was already permanently damaged. He blamed the firewhip-spell the Carrows liked to use so much on his left cheek. They sought it out each time they got their hands on him, making an art out of hitting him in the exact same spot every time. Seamus bit his lip. He hoped Neville had indeed managed to get away unnoticed, and could help the rest get out of there too. He supposed he'd get killed tonight. He didn't think he could survive more torture, and Amycus had made it perfectly clear he was planning to do his very worst. It was sad that he'd never get to say goodbye to Dean properly. He supposed Neville or Ginny would tell Dean how much he'd missed him, how much he'd wanted to run away and find him. If Dean wasn't dead already. From the corner of his eye, Seamus noticed a Dementor and realized that his dark thoughts were enhanced by the presence of the creature. But right now he could not possibly call forth a patronus. He was hurrying alongside Amycus, on a steady way down towards the dungeons. Just as they were about to enter the torture chamber, however, a dark figure blocked their way.  
“Amycus, I need your assistance in the Astronomy tower. We have an uproar of ghosts at our hands.”   
“What do I do with the delinquent, Headmaster?”  
“Send him to Hagrid's to serve his detention. We can't use the oaf in the Castle anyway.”  
Seamus could hardly believe his luck. Hagrid's was perfect. He'd spend many a detention at Hagrid's as of late, and the bulky man had never ever done anything to hurt him. Perhaps he could even still make it back to the others in time to see Neville's plan at work.  
Snape looked at him weirdly.   
“Don't think you'll be off the hook, Finnigan,” he warned him.   
“No, Headmaster. I'll go to Hagrid's right away, sir.”

-  
That night, in the safety of the Room of Requirements, Seamus learned that the uproar of the Hogwarts ghosts had only been step 1 of Neville's masterplan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be so kind to leave a comment :) I really appreciate getting them.


	4. On the run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the other fugitives are constantly on the move. On the way, they encounter goblins. It becomes even harder to stay out of the Snatchers' hands.

“I think we lost them, for now. Zebedeus Nott is not one to give up easily. He'll be back on our track by the morning, or maybe if we're lucky, the day after tomorrow.”   
They had been on the move constantly, but Dean knew it was just a slight delay before they would finally get caught. Dirk had managed to recover from the injuries he sustained the day they met, but now Ted was sporting a broken wand-arm. It wasn't looking good. Ted was really their best wizard. Dean was only a student who never got to do his N.E.W.Ts, and Dirk used to work with goblins in the Ministry of magic, hardly a position where he'd have to fend off many a dark wizard or witch. Ted, as a reporter and anchorman for wizard news shows, had had far more experience in the field. Every little break between running from one place to the next gave some room to breathe, but those moments had become steadily shorter. 

“You sit back and nurse your arm, Ted. The kid and I will set up camp this time.” Dirk had taken over as a leader temporarily. Dean found he didn't exactly like Dirk very much, but they got along out of necessity. Dirk calling him 'kid' did not help much, but Dean had found out long ago that it was no use trying to talk to the guy. Dirk was set in his ways. Dean supposed it had to do with his years of work with goblins, and their old-fashioned routines. Ted was a lot easier to like; over the past few weeks, he'd taken up a fatherly disposition towards Dean, but not in a way that was condescending or otherwise unpleasant. He'd listened to Dean's worries, comforted him as much as he could, and taught him some handy additional spells. Dean had felt safe enough with him to bring up his fear for Seamus' wellbeing, and the longing that went with it. 

“It's like... I'm so scared that he dies before I get to see him again. Or the other way around.”  
“I'm sorry, Dean, but both of these options are entirely possible. I don't mean to worsen you fear, but it's no good giving you false hope either. Although I do believe your friend has a better chance at Hogwarts then you do out here. Hogwarts may be under Death Eater control, but Dumbledore said it before: it will always offer a helping hand to those in need.”  
“Yeah... Yeah. And... I guess there's still more good people then bad people in Hogwarts, right?”  
“Absolutely right. Promise me, Dean, when the snatchers finally catch up with us, don't wait for an old man like me. Run. You are still young. Fast. You deserve to see your friends again.”  
“Ted...”  
“No, Dean, you should run. Please promise me that you'll run. If not for yourself, do it for your friend. You want to see him again, don't you?”  
“I do. I want to see him again more than anything. Is that wrong, Ted? I want to see Seamus even more than I want to see my mom. It's like, it's like my life is not my life without him. I don't even know. He's my best friend, and hopefully one day more than that, but it almost feels like we're...”  
“Two sides of the same coin? I know what that feels like.” 

Ted had smiled. Dean had been confused. Ted had told him about his wife, Andromeda, and Dean thought he understood. Ted said that he had been happy with her, that they had a beautiful daughter and she would give them a grandchild soon, and that it wasn't enough, but at least they had had plenty time together. Dean nodded, his head whirring with all the implications. He knew he had a crush on Seamus, that he was rather smitten with his best friend. He'd accepted that. But what Ted was talking about, sounded like something much bigger. Destiny stuff. Soulmates? For now, it was just too much to think about. They were trying to survive, and Dean could not afford to lose focus. It was well enough to dream and fantasize about Seamus back home where he was safe, but for now he could only afford himself so much without getting lost in his own desires. 

So Dean helped Dirk to secure their campsite, concentrating hard on each spell and charm. They used different ones each day, rotating various combinations so as not to allow the Snatchers to find a pattern in magical traces. They were just finishing up, when they heard something popping nearby; a distinctly magical sound, and they froze. Something was talking in a language Dean could not identify, but Dirk's eyes became large and Dean thought he saw excitement on his fellow fugitive's face. “Goblins,” Dirk whispered under his breath. “Goblins have defected.” Dean was not so sure whether that was good news or not, but before he could say anything, Dirk was already walking in the direction of the noises. Dean followed a few steps behind him, cursing inwardly. Dirk of all people should know to be careful around goblins. 

Wand at the ready, he watched as Dirk removed a camouflage spell and startled the pair of goblins who were busy burrowing themselves between the roots of a large oak. They jumped up, eyes blazing, but seemed to recognize Dirk right away, and the tree of them quickly conversed in the Goblin-language, gesticulating wildly. Only when Dirk turned around and gestured for Dean to come closer, did Dean relax a little, lowering his wand.   
“This are Gornuk and Griphook, from Gringotts. I've worked with them countless times. Gentlemen, this is Dean Thomas, muggle-born wizard on the run. Like me.”   
Dean made a short little bow, not sure what else to do. He didn't know much about goblins, but Dirk had told him they appreciated good manners.   
“Uh, nice to meet you.” He tried.  
“Yes, yes, no time for formalities. Greyback is hunting us. Nott is hunting you. We need you, you need us. Get on with it.” That was the one named Griphook, if Dean remembered correctly.  
“We have one more person with us,” Dirk informed them. “He's got a broken wand-arm. But if Greyback is on your trail, we can't stay here. Dean, get Ted and pack up. We need to move as fast as possible.”

Dean hurried back to the site where they'd left Ted to rest and tend to his arm. The older man looked pale and in pain, and Dean worried for him. But his fear for the werewolf -he'd recognized the name- was much bigger, and he knew they couldn't afford a break now.   
“Ted, Ted... goblins! Dirk's found goblins! But they have a werewolf hunting them! We need to run!”  
Ted grimaced as he let Dean help him up, and Dean quickly accio'd the tent they'd not even put up yet. He supported Ted as they walked to Dirk and the goblins as quickly as they possibly could, considering Ted's pain.   
“Dead weight,” was Gornuk's verdict the moment he laid eyes on Ted. “We're better off leaving him behind.”  
To his credit, Dirk immediately scolded the goblin for that, making it very clear they would bring Ted with them, period. Dean liked him a little better for it. 

It took the last of Ted's strength to disapparate alongside all of them, granted that the goblins did most of the work this time. The moment they landed in some other, much denser forest, however, Ted collapsed, looking all but dead. Alarmed, Dean crouched near his friend, but was quickly pushed out of the way by Griphook.  
“He's mostly exhausted. You, muggle-born, help Dirk and Gornuk disguise us. I have some first aid training. Let me deal with him.”  
Reluctantly, Dean did as he was told, but he made sure he stayed near Ted and Griphook, not so sure about trusting the goblin. Every now and then he would look over his shoulder at the pair, hoping that what Griphook was doing was indeed healing, and not making Ted worse. 

They had to work fast, as the last bit of daylight was quickly leaving and with it, the last little bit of warmth. With the help of Gornuk, however, things didn't take as long as usual. The goblin had some very handy tricks in his arsenal, disguising not just the campsite, but their tent and themselves, too, as part of the terrain.   
“Picked it up from the trolls,” he confided in them. “But they only know how to do the rock-look. I developed it so we can look like vegetation, too. Only downpart is when animals fall for it.” As Gornuk took care of the best camouflage Dean had seen so far, Dirk and he took care of disguising the sounds they made. To anyone outside their little group, they'd sound like birds and rodents, normal forest sounds. Dean hoped it'd be enough. 

In the following days, what they did indeed seemed to work, and even if they still moved around every other day, they did not encounter any Snatchers. Ted recovered from his broken arm and the horrible pain, thanking Griphook on a daily basis for his help. They dared to relax a little, and Dean found he got along with the goblins well enough, mostly due to him not owning large amounts of goblin-made heirlooms like pureblood wizards. Or, getting along was a big word, but they respected each other, even if they didn't always trust each other. 

Early one morning, Dean left the campsite in order to relieve himself away from the tents. He'd lost count of his days on the run, but he knew Christmas and New Year's had come and gone. He sighed, once again thinking back to the New Year's eve of the previous year, when he'd celebrated with Seamus. He wondered whether the other boy was thinking of him too, and realized he was softly muttering Seamus' name to himself, when he heard shouts and bangs from the direction of the tents. As fast as he could, Dean pulled his pants up and made for the tents, wand out. Something bumped into him, making him fall down hard, landing painfully on an elbow. He scrambled up, but was pushed back down hard by a remarkably strong, longfingered hand.   
“Stay down!” Griphook's voice whispered urgently into his ear. 

At first, Dean struggled to get away from Griphook's grip, but the goblin was stronger, and it was soon clear that it was no use; their little campsite was literally swarmed by Snatchers, and it was all Dean could do to watch in horror as Dirk, Ted and Gornuk fell, one after the other. In the middle of the group was a large, muscular man in ragged clothes, whose stench was so penetrating Dean could smell it from where they were hiding in a shrubbery. Greyback. Dean held his breath, hoping that Griphook could work his goblin magic long enough for them to escape- but it didn't seem they'd be that lucky. He could see Greyback turn their way, and in a chilling, terrifying moment that seemed to last forever, rush towards where Dean and Griphook were hiding.  
“More traitors!” The man barked, and the other Snatchers hurried over.  
Dean had time to think of Seamus one last time before the werewolf was upon him, hammering him into the ground, and everything went black.


	5. Hogwarts resists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seamus and the rest of the DA do what they can from their hideout in the Room of Requirement. It's hard to concentrate when you're so very worried about the people you love.

For the first time in months, Seamus felt actually useful again. As useful as he could be, while being under siege, anyway. Within the Room of Requirement, he and the rest of the DA had finally found a rhythm, a way to cope with the Death Eaters in the castle. Neville was the mastermind behind most of it, though the boy wouldn't take any credit for it, saying that Ginny and Luna had inspired him with their suggestions. (Luna's part from before she disappeared of course). He'd worked out a schedule, which was fully based on unpredictability. 

Sometimes a single member of the DA would venture out of the Room in the middle of the night, installing and disguising extendable ears in the teacher's lounge or the dungeons, or anywhere else where they needed to spy. Other times a group of them would create a distraction somewhere so another group could free a captive from the dungeons. The distractions were never the same and always somewhere else. The ghost uprising had been the first one; but Seamus, Ginny and Romilda Vane had created a series of explosions in the Gryffindor tower three days after that, and Cho, Neville, and the Patils set up a portable swamp in the Great Hall two weeks after that. The next day, they had convinced Myrtle to flood every single bathroom in the castle. After that, students no longer got locked up in the dungeons. The majority of the 'rebels' were already in the Room of Requirement anyway, and the rest followed on their own. Now everything was about making life hard for the Death Eaters at Hogwarts. 

The castle, including the ghosts and the portaits was working with them, and even though the house-elves would not aid in setting up traps or distractions, they did provide them with food, whenever possible. Two weeks into their hideout, however, they discovered the secret passage to the Hog's Head, and Aberforth Dumbledore -who they all had gotten to know at the Headmaster's funeral- provided them with food from that day forward. Now they only summoned the house-elves every once in a while to be able to slip puking pastilles in the Carrows' coffee or nosebleed nougat in Snape's. Dobby in particular was very much prepared to participate in such mischief. He even offered to shadow Draco Malfoy to see what he was up to, but didn't find out anything. 

In between their activism, the students finally felt they had the time and liberty to relax a little, even though the Potterwatch-broadcasting they listened to were often worrying. The endless reports of people getting killed did not do much to lift their spirits. So they tried to distract each other by playing games, joking around and celebrating the occasional birthday in the hideout extensively. 

It was late one morning in march as Seamus sat playing a game of exploding Snap with game, when the radio switched on. The Room had a way of catching every broadcast of Potterwatch, sensing the students' need to hear any possible news about their relatives. Seamus and Ginny got quiet as the broadcast announced the killing of Ted Tonks, Dirk Cresswell and a goblin named Gornuk. And then...

“Dean Thomas and another goblin have possibly escaped the scene. We urge Dean, or anyone who knows where he is to...”  
The rest of the sentence got drowned as Seamus called out.  
“Possibly escaped. What does that even mean? Were they there? How do they know about that? It just means they can't confirm they're dead yet!”  
He clutched the sweater -it had been a risky endeavor to retrieve it from the dorm, but he was glad he did it- against his chest, pressing his eyes shut as he fought against the lump in his throat. Ginny was rubbing his shoulders in a feeble attempt to comfort him.  
“Seamus. I really think they have escaped. Try to see it positively. Dean is still out there somewhere.”  
“For how long, Ginny? How long until they kill him, too!?”  
“Watch it, Seamus!”  
That was Neville, sounding alarmed but not accusing. Seamus realized he was probably setting things on fire, and indeed, he could smell smoke.  
“Sorry...” He muttered softly, and Neville breathed out in faint relief as Seamus finally gave in, curling up against Ginny and letting her pat him as he cried silently. 

The rest of them listened quietly to the rest of the broadcast, not even smiling when they recognized the voices of their friends and former teacher. Something was said about Hagrid being on the run, and a few students exchanged guilty looks as the 'Hurray for Harry' party was mentioned. Seamus didn't notice. Despite Ginny and Neville's best efforts, he felt himself losing hope, and it was the worst feeling ever. Not even Lavender exclaiming she suddenly understood why he never kissed her at the Yule ball didn't make him feel anything but a more deepening darkness. 

_Dean. Dean, where are you? Please be alive, Dean, please at least be alive. I don't care if you love me back. Just be alive. If you're dead, I don't know what I'll do._  
Every night Seamus was driving himself mad with his obsessive thoughts. He'd had similar thoughts before, but that was before Dean's name was mentioned on Potterwatch, Nothing interested him anymore, not even going on dangerous missions. Neville didn't send him out, and he was grateful for it, but he hated the worried looks everyone kept sending him. He had stopped crying, and tried to cling to the hope that Dean had indeed escaped, but that took a lot of willpower. He was practically glued to the radio, and hardly took the time to eat or bathe, let alone participate in any other activities. In short: Seamus was an emotional wreck, and his fellow DA members seriously worried about him going full-on crazy. And then, it was reported that the Slytherin students went home for the Easter holidays, and Dobby dissapeared. 

Two days later, reports came in via Aberforth Dumbledore and the Weasley twins. Dobby had managed to rescue Dean, Luna, mr Ollivander, Ron, Harry, Hermione and a goblin named Griphook from the Malfoy manor and they were all reported safe. Dobby was killed during the mission. Seamus could hardly believe it. But Fred and George swore up and down that it was true, and even smuggled in some letters from the survivors, confirming the story. There was even a brief note from Dean for Seamus.

_Dear Seamus.  
I heard you were worried about me. I want to let you know I'm alright, just very much shaken. I can't tell you where I am, obviously. But rest assured, I'm planning to look for you as soon as the circumstances allow it. I miss you._

_Dean_

It made all the difference in the world. Seamus could not stop smiling. Dean was alive! Dean was alright! They would see each other again! Together, they'd fight every single Death Eater unfortunate enough to encounter them. And they'd win. Seamus had especially nasty plans for Malfoy, who'd kept Dean captive for so long. Nobody was to touch Dean. Not ever. If only Harry would hurry up with whatever he was doing to defeat You-Know-who. Seamus could hardly wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize I diverge from canon at times. I hope to keep it limited to details. This is fully due to me filling in blanks without always having checked exactly what we know about those blanks. I try to check everything, but sometimes I find out I made a mistake after I wrote a scene. Anyhow, comments are still very much welcome, also on the Dean chapters ;)


	6. Back to Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean bides his time in Shell Cottage until he can return to Hogwarts and fight alongside Seamus.

_Dear Dean,_

_You have no idea. I was so worried! When we meet again, you have to tell me everything. I can't wait. I have a lot to tell you, too. We're going to need days! I'm so glad you're alright. Neville says I look a million times better since the news. Please stay safe, don't get caught again, you git._

_Yours,  
Seamus_

Dean read the brief note he got back from Fred and George over and over. He could feel how many stories there were behind the note, could practically hear Seamus' unending chatter. He smiled fondly. Seamus had always been more of a talker than a writer. But the feelings in the short message were clear enough. According to Fred and George, Seamus had looked like he was half-dead when they first saw him, but very much like the same old Seamus when he heard that Dean was alright.   
“I think he hugged both of us about a dozen times just for telling him,” Fred grinned.   
“I mean, I know he's an affectionate fellow, but you'd think we told him he was the latest pick for Ireland's national Quidditch team.” George added.  
“Oh, next time we'll tell him that!” Fred chuckled.  
“Nah, I plan to safe my virginity for Angelina.” George objected, earning himself a good natured smack to the back of his head, courtesy of Dean.   
“Like you're still a virgin.” He smiled.   
“Sorry, forgot you have dibs on Finnigan.”   
At that, Dean just blushed furiously, but he didn't try to deny it. Apparently, he was way too obvious with his crush on his best friend. Luna had been the first to mention it, in her trademark matter-of-fact way, back in the Malfoy Manor. But he knew she wasn't a gossip, and the others had figured it out quickly enough on their own with all his pining and worrying about Seamus. 

Not that Harry, Ron and Hermione pestered him too much about it. They were way too busy scheming and figuring out clues on some secret mission Dumbledore seemed to have given them posthumously. Dean couldn't do much to help them, as they had explained extensively that they were supposed to do it on their own. It had something to do with Gryffindor's sword, that they had managed to salvage from the manor. Dean wasn't stupid, and he suspected that Luna, Mr Ollivander and even Griphook knew more than he did, but he also wasn't one to be bitter about being left out. He only wished he could do more to help and speed it all up. He just wanted to go back to Seamus, and rather yesterday than tomorrow.   
“You don't have a wand, Dean, maybe it's better to stay behind and wait for it all to be over once the fight starts in earnest.” Fleur advised. Dean was having none of that. There was no way he'd stay away from Seamus just because he lacked a wand.   
“I can fight. I'm a Gryffindor. And part of the DA.”   
And despite any protests, Dean wouldn't change his mind. He would not wait for a minute longer than absolutely necessary. 

It took another month.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Griphook had taken off to London the day before, and in all honesty, Dean didn't expect anything to happen just yet. But it did. Dean was sketching the view from his window when he heard excited shouts from downstairs. Suddenly, Luna was in his room, waving her DA coin at him and beaming.   
“It's today!”   
“What?!”  
“Neville is calling us to arms! Hurry up, Dean! We're leaving in four minutes and twenty-seven seconds!”   
As fast as he could, Dean put on his sneakers and a sweater he'd borrowed from Bill. It was a little too big for him, but today he didn't care. He almost jumped down the entire staircase in his haste, but decided running would be a bit safer and almost as fast. No need to get injured before the battle.   
Luna and the Weasley twins were waiting for him in the garden near Dobby's grave.  
“Bill and Fleur are getting reinforcements. You sure you want to come without a wand?” Fred asked, out of an uncharacteristic need to at least try and caution Dean.  
“I'll find one. I'm coming.”   
They grabbed each other's hands, and by what was by now familiar magic, apparated to Hogsmeade together. 

The trek through the tunnel from Hog's Head to Hogwarts seemed to take far too long for Dean. He was going to see Seamus again, and every second was like an hour in his impatience. It didn't help he was the last one in the row; the twins had insisted on leading the way and despite everything, Dean was too much of a gentleman to let Luna close the row. But finally, he could make out light in the distance, and hear the growing murmur of Hogwarts. Suddenly, his palms were sweaty and the hair in his neck prickled. The realization of what he was likely about to face had finally caught up with him – Death Eaters, and possibly even You-Know-Who himself would be in the castle, and he didn't even have a wand! 

He groaned softly to himself, but he didn't think of turning back now. Seamus would be there, and that was all what mattered. Only seconds later, he was tumbling from the tunnel's exit, blinking against the light as welcoming cheers and helpful hands accompanied his entrance. Before he could even see where exactly he was, a powerful force hit him in the chest and arms wrapped around him tightly. As he looked down, he could only make out a familiar mop of blond-brown hair as his eyes filled with tears and his throat choked up. Seamus! He hugged back with similar fervor, not planning to ever let go again. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the Weasley twins wolf-whistle, but he paid them no heed. 

“Dean!” Muttered Seamus against his chest. “You're really here!”   
Dean smiled through his tears.   
“Of course I am! You don't think I'd leave your bony ass alone in a battle?!”  
And just like that, they were beaming and chatting like they hadn't been apart for a year. Seamus scolded Dean for not his lack of a wand, worry clear in his voice. Dean scolded Seamus for not writing anything about whatever it was the Carrows had done to his face. Silently, he vowed to kill them both for that. Slowly. But there wasn't time to catch up, as Harry made clear that the Death Eaters and Voldemort would be aware of their presence now. It was time to fight. Dean and Seamus looked at each other, both still determined to fight along with the rest of them. Together. 

And still, somehow, when the chaos of the battle broke out full-force, they managed to get separated. Dean found himself fighting side by side with Parvati, while Seamus got ordered to help blow up a bridge. Dean was immensely grateful for Parvati's presence; if it wasn't for her immaculate obscuro jinx, Travers would've surely done him in. As it was, he managed to steal his wand instead. He could not pause to thank her, as they had to take on another Death Eater together, and then another. And then a group of four at the same time. Shouting spells and blocking curses, dodging falling debris, taking temporary shelter behind columns or in alcoves, they progressed. No time to stop and think. No time to look for familiar faces. No time to look for the Carrows and murder them, like he wanted.

Terrified for their lives, but determined to survive, they slowly made their way through the castle. They skirted around rubble, dust, and, horribly, bodies. He did not know how long it took, or where they were going when, suddenly, they were chilled to the bone as the disembodied voice of Voldemort told them to gather their injured and mourn their dead. He gave them an hour reprieve, but expected Harry to turn himself in by the end of it. Next to Dean, Parvati gasped and moaned in denial.   
“He can't! He won't! We won't let him!”  
Dean nodded blankly, his eyes scanning their surroundings. He couldn't see Seamus anywhere.   
“Go find the rest! I'm gonna get Shay.” 

And off he was, hurrying through what remained of the castle halls, stumbling past gruesome scenes of badly injured fighters on either side, and bodies being carried off. He didn't stop to look who they were. Seamus couldn't be one of them. That would be just impossible. When he finally found an exit, Dean was running, bellowing Seamus' name over and over.  
“Hold it!” a lilting, feminine voice called, and he bumped into one of Professor Trelawney's arms, making her many bracelets tinkle. Blinking, Dean realized he was inches from running straight into a bottomless ravine where previously a bridge had connected the castle to its grounds. Seamus did this, he thought, overwhelmed with a mixture of wild pride, awe and shock.  
“Professor, do you know where Seamus is?”  
“Well, he must be inside somewhere. He teamed up with Minerva and that Longbottom boy.”  
That calmed Dean down somewhat. If Seamus had been with professor Mc Gonnagal, he should have been protected fairly well.   
“Thanks, Professor.”

He turned on his heels, heading back for the castle. It'd been easy to overlook someone in the chaos, he told himself. He'd just blindly assumed that Seamus would still be outside. This time around, he forced himself to walk a little slower, to take in everything and everyone he saw. They'd gathered the dead and injured in the Great Hall. With icecold dread pooling in his stomach, Dean scoured the rows. Colin Creevey. Fred Weasley- God, how awful. Lavender Brown, Parvati sobbing over her best friend's body. Dean felt sick. At the end of the row, Professor Lupin, holding the hand of a woman who was the spitting image of Ted, apart from the fact that she spotted a mop of pink hair. No... No. Not Ted's daughter! He shook, overcome with grief, reliving Ted's death for an awful moment, when he was distracted by someone grabbing his hand.  
“He's over there,” Luna's voice said softly, pulling him to a corner. Seamus sat there, quiet and pale, but very much still alive.   
“I killed a Death Eater. Set him on fire.” Seamus mumbled. Wordlessly, Dean sat down beside him, pulling him in his arms. They both cried again, too shell-shocked to talk. Too horrified to fully feel relief that the other lived. 

It wasn't over yet.

Harry went. Nobody could stop him. He just up and went, to sacrifice himself. Like Voldemort would really spare the rest of them. Dean didn't believe that for one second, but he couldn't blame Harry for trying. He knew he'd done the same, if only for the slightest hope that Seamus would survive. They sat huddled close together, waiting with baited breath like the others. And then, they were called out to the courtyard, to witness Hagrid carrying Harry's lifeless body, sobbing.   
Dean sucked on his cheeks furiously, a deep frown on his forehead. Beside him, he felt Seamus squeezing his hand- he hadn't even realized they were holding hands when they walked outside. Now they clenched their joined hands into a fist. Neville was the first to shout out his outrage. They joined him as one. Voldemort merely laughed at them, and humiliated Neville by forcing the Sorting Hat on him and claiming he'd be a Slytherin now. 

Suddenly, many things happened at the same time. Centaurs attacked the Death Eaters. Neville killed the snake. Voldemort tried to kill him, but was blocked by a shielding charm appearing out of nowhere. In an instant, everyone was fighting again. And Harry wasn't dead. Dean and Seamus fought side by side this time, filled with renewed hope. Before they knew it, it was over again, as suddenly as it'd started. New bodies littered the floor, but they were all of Death Eaters, and Voldemort himself. They'd won! It was finally over for good! 

The students scattered, either to reunite with their family or friends, mourn their dead or nurse their injuries.  
Dean and Seamus retreated to a somewhat secluded corner, sitting down and staring at each other. Just when Dean opened his mouth to speak, Aberforth joined them, handing each of them a mug of steaming hot chocolate. They sat in companionable silence for a while, and then Aberforth started to talk.  
“You boys remind me of my brother when he was younger. Just less foolish.”   
Dean blinked. What did he mean? He looked at Seamus, who shrugged and smirked his familiar impish smirk. Aberforth didn't clarify but invited them to stay in the Hog's Head for a while.   
“Me mam's not gonna like it,” Seamus said with an apologetic grin, “But yeah. I don't feel up to travelling just yet.”  
And Dean complied. He felt exhausted. He was so tired, that when they finally made it back to the Hog's Head, he didn't even feel surprised when Aberforth showed them to a room with a double bed.


	7. After the battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Seamus wake up the day after the Battle Of Hogwarts. Despite what they've been through the day before, Seamus is still determined to tell Dean how he feels.

Light filtered through the threadbare curtains into the Hog's Head's guestroom. Seamus stirred in the bed he had so naturally shared with Dean. Blinking blearily, he attempted to assemble the jumble of erratic thoughts in his half-waking mind. Exhaustion had taken his toll after the horrors of the previous day, and Seamus had not even bothered to undress before he stumbled into bed that night. Dean didn't do much better, although he had bothered to stuff his socks neatly inside his shoes, while Seamus had just kicked them off. 

During the night, Seamus had woken up with a start several times, heart racing and sweat on his palms from restless, frightening dreams. Dean, however, had just slept like a log. As Seamus watched him, the other boy didn't look like he was about to wake up anytime soon either. It was the first time since their reunion that Seamus had an actual chance to thoroughly look at him. Dean had lost weight. His eyes looked hollow. And even if he was just barely eightteen years old, Seamus was pretty sure he could see some gray in Dean's hair. Or maybe that was dust from the castle. Still, Dean was undeniably beautiful. Tall, dark and handsome, Seamus thought with a faint, fond smile. There was something about Dean's jawline, covered in a slight stubble, that just made him look so manly. His nose was straight, and apart from the odd cuts and bruises, his skin was perfect. And those lips... they were just waiting to get kissed. 

Sighing, Seamus forced himself to look away. He wanted. He wanted to have just one good moment to make up for all the terrible ones. But it was not fair to steal a kiss from someone who was sleeping. And Seamus Finnigan could be called a lot of names, he was no coward. He'd wait for Dean to properly wake up. They would talk. Over breakfast, perhaps. He would tell Dean how he felt about him, how he'd felt for the past... what was it, two years? And he'd ask for a kiss, just one, to try and see what Dean thought about that. Yes, that was the proper way to go about it. Behind him, Dean stirred and muttered his name. Just like that, Seamus' resolve was gone out the window.  
“I'm here, Dean. Just uhm... I need to use the bathroom real quick, alright? I'll be back in a few minutes.”  
“Alright, just... c-come back, okay?” Seamus hated to hear that little tremble of fear in Dean's voice. Dean, his strong Dean, should not sound like that. Not ever.   
“Yeah, mate. Of course.”

In the small ensuite bathroom, he splashed his face with water and peered into the mirror over the sink. Damn, he looked like shit. The water had done little to remove the smudged soot from his face, and his hair was partly burned off. His face was still considerably swollen on the left side, and there were new cuts in his nose and lips. And that was only the part of him he could see in the ridiculous high-hanging mirror. What was he thinking, considering to ask Dean for a kiss when he looked like this? And with how shaky he still was feeling, he doubted he wouldn't make it even worse if he tried to use a cleaning spell. He opened the door a little, and called to Dean that he was gonna take a quick shower.  
“I'll leave the door ajar so you can hear me, okay?”   
The fact that Dean didn't tell him to stop being ridiculous, broke his heart a little. 

He was out of the shower in what must have been his record, but at least he now looked more like Seamus and less like a sodding chimney-sweep. It was only a small improvement, because of course he didn't have any clean clothes with him. Reluctantly, he put the shirt and boxers from last night back on, bringing the rest of his clothes with him into the room. He didn't want to leave Dean alone longer than necessary. And it seemed to be just as well, because e right as he sat down on his side of the bed, Dean practically launched himself forward to hug him tight. To Seamus' horror, Dean was shaking.   
“I... Seamus. I'm sorry, I just... I just need to feel you're real, okay?”  
“Real as can be, mate. You're not getting rid of me that easily.”   
He hugged back, of course he hugged back, holding Dean close against him. Dean smelled like smoke, sweat and dried blood. Maybe it wasn't the best of smells, but Seamus didn't care.   
“I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere.” He repeated over and over, as long as it took for Dean to stop shaking and saying his name in that pleading, scared voice of his. At last, Dean relaxed a little, finally convinced that Seamus was real, and alive and well. That they'd made it.

They got up, Seamus finished dressing, and they went downstairs for breakfast. Aberforth had laid out a simple, but hearty choice of beans, toast, eggs and bacon. The smells made them realize how hungry they were, and they more or less attacked the food without stopping to talk. So far for Seamus' morning resolution. Still, he wanted to say it at least before they'd have to go their separate ways home. Seamus' mam was sure to want him to come back right away. Maybe he could convince her to let Dean stay over with them for a bit, seeing Dean's mental state from that morning. Dean's folks were Muggles, after all, they couldn't possibly know about yesterday's battle.   
“Don't you lads want to go outside for a bit?” Aberforth suggested. “You need your hair looked at, young Finnigan, I'd recommend the hairdresser across Honeydukes. And you could both stand a visit to Gladrags. You don't want your mothers to find you back in rags, do you?”

They followed Aberforth's suggestions, partly because they couldn't quite think of anything else to do, and partly because he was probably right. Their moms would be worried enough as it was, at least Seamus' mom would be. He didn't know how much Dean's mom knew. They paid a visit to the Post Office too, to send letters home ensuring everyone that they were okay.   
“You want to go grab a drink somewhere?” Seamus asked as the hairdresser-witch was finishing up the spellwork that'd grow his hair back.  
Dean nodded, and smiled for the first time that day. Seamus was relieved to see it.  
“Let's go pay a visit to Madam Rosmerta,” Dean offered. “I don't think I can stand Puddifoot just yet.”   
Seamus wholeheartedly agreed. The pink shop was entirely too bright. 

The Three Broomsticks was just opening its doors when they arrived. Madam Rosmerta looked as worn and tired as they felt, but she had a smile for them nevertheless.   
“You fought bravely yesterday, boys. Have a drink on the house.”  
She served them butterbeer and they thanked her, sitting down in a twoseater in the back.   
“So what do you think will happen to Hogwarts now?” Dean asked, looking for Seamus' view as a halfblood with more inside knowledge of the wizarding world than he had.   
“Uh... well, it will need a lot of repairs. But, I don't think it's going to get closed or anything. Don't you remember Bins droning on about how resilient the school's always been?”   
Dean smirked. It was good to see him smirk. Seamus swallowed. He should say something now.

Taking a large gulp from his butterbeer, he reached for Dean's hand under the table.  
“Hey, Dean?”  
“Yeah?” Dean's eyes were focused on Seamus', and it was entirely impossible to think about how to phrase it.   
“Ya know. Can... can we... go out? I mean, I like you. As in, like, like you. Go out as in, you know... uh, datewise?”   
He bit his lip, wanting to look away, but at the same time totally unable to.   
“Seamus.” He nodded, opening his mouth to start taking back his words. Dean squeezed his hand and smiled a warm, big smile that finally reached his eyes.  
“I'd really like to do that, Seamus. Going out datewise, with you.” He chuckled. Seamus let out a deep sigh, and felt how his mouth twitched into a large grin.   
“Really?”   
“Yeah, Seamus, really.”   
“Wow. I'd never thought you'd say yes. I mean, we're best friends, like, always. But I thought I was crazy you know, for liking you even better than that. I mean, since we're both men and all...”  
“You're rambling.”   
Dean leaned over, effectively shutting Seamus up by placing a soft kiss on his lips. Behind the counter, Madam Rosmerta cleared her throat.   
“Well, this is the first time I've seen two strapping young lads such as yourselves that're more interested in each other than they are in me.”

They all laughed, and it seemed that the entirety of Hogsmeade warmed up with their shared mirth. Seamus knew now that there was no way someone would stop him from staying by Dean's side. One year of separation had been more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finished this thing! I hope you enjoyed reading it. Comments are very much appreciated.


End file.
